Prepare for the 71st Hunger Games
by pink pumpkin
Summary: *SUBMIT YOUR OWN CHARACTERS- FULL*... I could say it was a mistake. That it was an accident. That I would give anything for my district partner back, but this is the Hunger games, and killing him means that I am one step closer to winning.
1. Submit your own tributes form

**Another Submit your own tribute's story!**

**Hope you're looking forward to it.**

**For this fanfic you will need to submit their:**

Name:

Gender:

Age:

District (include a second choice):

Personality:

Appearance:

Family/ Friends:

Token:

Chosen/ Volunteered:

Favourite weapon:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Strategy:

Interview approach:

**Optional**

Reaping outfit:

Chariot outfit:

Interview outfit:

Also if you can think of any more things, add them.

Say hi to my friend Hattie if you decide to make a character.

The quicker you review and add characters, the quicker the games come- let the games begin!


	2. Tribute list

**Final tribute list...**

District 1:

Girl: Milo Leal (17)

Boy: Bracke Ridge (18)

District 2:

Girl: Siena Mahone (17)

Boy: Doug Philips (15)

District 3:

Girl: Rhiannon Lash (14)

Boy: Charles Hunter (14)

District 4:

Girl: Kyra Lvanova (17)

Boy: Leon Taylor (16)

District 5:

Girl: Amelia Kift (15)

Boy: Otto Erastus (13)

District 6:

Girl: Bliss Mckenna

Boy: Hugh York (14)

District 7:

Girl: Azure Hoc (14)

Boy: Garmal McFarly (14)

District 8:

Girl: Chella Wright (16)

Boy: Syne Torqua (18)

District 9:

Girl: Nyla Triss (14)

Boy: Mark Vires (14)

District 10:

Girl: Pea Adams (14)

Boy: Arret Hayes (12)

District 11:

Girl: Selena Yodis (16)

Boy: Kenzie Sykes (13)

District 12:

Girl: Ren Zaira (16)

Boy: Jon Neal (17)

**Thanks to anyone who has submitted a tribute.**


	3. Chapter 1

**First Chapter- YAY!**

**Whenever I read other submit a tribute reapings, I usually get board halfway through and give up, so I have decided to pass the reapings quickly by telling it from the POV of a Gamemaker.**

**Enjoy, but if you don't like it, tell me and I can change it back to normal reapings or another suggestion.**

My _head_. I sat up on my chair rubbing the lump while searching through the mess on my desk for my healing cream. Massaging it into my scalp, I sighed at the growing amount of papers scattered on my desk, waiting to be written and signed.

I hate the games. I mean don't get me wrong, it's fun to watch the districts fight it out for 1st place, but when it gets to this time of the year, my work triples.

Yesterday's night party has not improved my dingy mood. All that that did was give me a large headache

Finding the bell hidden behind several balls of elastic bands, I rang it to call my personal avox. Personal avox- I have my own avox! One of the gamemaker's above me was fired for letting a tribute live through a cave collapse-in, and I was chosen to take his place! Although the job had more paperwork then I would usually do, it came with a house on cherry road, the second most expensive place to live in the Capitol, and my own avox. How could I turn it down?

When my avox finally arrived carrying my usual cooked breakfast, I quickly took the tray off of her and tucked into my meal, standing up and leaving the room whilst stuffing my mouth with egg.

"Sort out the papers," I called back to her, little bits of egg spaying onto the floor from my mouth.

Looking at my watch, it turned out I was going to miss the reapings if I didn't get to the TV room quickly. Whilst taking the elevator up to the 10th floor, I managed to finish my breakfast and dump it on the small table outside the elevator doors. Falling back into the warm clutches of my sofa, I reached for the control panel on the right arm of it to switch the TV on, flicking through endless channels until I found the right one, where Caesor Flickerman was discussing what he thought the tributes were going to be like with someone named Halie Finn, or so her nametag read.

"Now last year, that was the perfect example of a bad alliance, I think we could all tell that it was going nowhere," Halie told Caesor.

"Yes, but the way he killed her, let's just say that it looked like it hurt."

"Do you think that anyone this year will be as brutal?"

"I guess we will just have to watch and find out. Thank you for being on the show, Halie."

"Thank you, Caesor."

The scene quickly changes from the comfort of the Capitol to District 1, where I'm told they had an outbreak of head lice. Alley Kidd, this year's escort, is styling a long, golden wig, a short white dress with a golden band hanging round the hips and tall, golden boots complete with bright blue buttons.

Alley stalked over to the bowl, pausing to shake her hair at the camera. She is the height of fashion. Dipping her skinny arm gracefully into the bowl, she picked out a name from the bottom of the bowl.

"Carla Beetle," She called out in a clearly.

"I volunteer!" called out a big voice from the back. A large girl swaggered forward onto the stage while being cheered on by a crowd of people from the back of the square. Once up there, she threw a twisted smile at the audience, which was greeted by a whistle coming from the 17s.

"So, what's your name?"Alley asked, trying to stop the girl posing and flexing her muscles.

"Morgan Leal," the girl replied, narrowing her eyes and flicking her hair at one of the cameras.

"Alrighty, let's get on with the boys." Alley made her way to the opposite side of the stage where the boys bowl was situated. Sliding her hand into it, she tried to get a hold on a slip. The wind must of blew at that point as the next thing I could see was Alley dropping the name and trying to hold her skirt down, unsuccessfully, resulting in the TV catching a glance at her pink, lacy knickers. Trying to remain her dignity, Alley picked up the slip she had dropped like nothing had ever happened, and quickly read the name.

"Billy Nabe."

The cameras scanned the area, trying to pick out Billy, finally managing to show a small boy from the 12s slowly walking up the steps, shivering.

"I volunteer!" called out a boy with short, dark hair from the 18s. He practically ran to the stage as not to miss out on his chance of fame. Alley took a few steps away from him as the boy looked down on her.

"What's your name?"

"Bracke Ridge," he replied in a loud voice, sweeping his gaze around the audience when they didn't clap. An awkward silence followed where Alley tried to think what to say.

Morgan slowly held out her hand to Bracke, narrowing her eyes at her competition, while Bracke repeated the gesture with a disgusted look on his face, taking care to wipe his hand on his trousers.

"And may the odd's be ever in your favour!" squeaked Alley in her high pitched voice, ushering them off the stage and into the crowd of Peacekeepers. The TV switched onto the Capitol seal, leading into a break where some loony was telling the screen why Pertox was the best brand of microchip.

Pressing the mute button, I ordered a snack of orange and wildflower biscuits through the mouth piece on the side of the sofa and waited for my avox to arrive.

Changing the channel to some art exhibit, I started to write one of the many reports that I had to finish by Thursday. This one concluded the results of the test for the arena and would be going straight to the head Gamemaker.

I comfort myself with the knowledge that the games are soon, and after that my work ease's considerably.

Staring out of my window and gathering my thoughts, my avox made her way in to deliver my snack. Chewing slowly to savour the taste, I planned out the rest of my day, deciding to take a break off work and party hard tonight. What a boring life the district people must live. But then again, they brought it on themselves.

**Tell me the truth**

**Does it sound cheesy?**

**Please review- if you don't review, how will I know how it sounds?**


	4. Chapter 2

**I'm sorry I haven't updated for ages. Umm, I had lots of homework? I guess that's not an excuse.**

**Please enjoy!**

Suddenly remembering the reapings, I turned the TV back on. While doing so I ended up tripping on a chair leg, sprawling myself across the room, and bashing my shoulder on the side of the sofa. Howling in pain I rolled around on the ground for a moment before remembering my purpose. I had gotten up and was brushing myself off when my avox appeared at the door. She was swiftly walking around and collecting the plate I had used earlier, along with several other trays she had found lying around the quarters and picked up on the way in.

I nodded to her briefly, and motioned for her to grab me the remote that was on the table by the door. Settling into a comfy position on the sofa, I extended my hand behind my back and felt the little clicker settle into my palm nicely. I could definitely get used to being a Gamemaker, if it didn't always come with the threat of execution. I flicked my finger and hit a small red button on the control, lighting the blank, dark screen with a bright, white light, ah, just in time for district two.

A pretty girl was gracefully making her way onto the stage, her large brown eyes narrowing more the closer she got to the stage, and her messy auburn hair floating behind her slender figure. District two's girl was a nice looking one to be sure. She spared a small glance at the crowd, her tanned skin staying the same colour and her eyes intense with an emotion I couldn't quite pinpoint.

"My name is Siene Mahone, and I will win this year's hunger games," the girl announced, staring into a camera and daring anyone to speak out against her or tell her that she was wrong. Her soft outfit, consisting of a light blue top and a ruffled grey skirt, seemed to contradict her hard personality so much that it almost was comical, almost.

"So she isn't a shy one, huh?" I murmured to myself. I wrote down a little note for myself on the electronic pad next to me.

"Siene Mahone, everybody!" called the District 2 escort, smiling a million-watt smile, like he had won the lottery. Which I'm sure he thought he had, wasn't it just last year that he was in District 9? I examined his neon orange hair and baby blue skin, nodding thoughtfully. Well, wasn't he just a lucky duck that 9 had won last season.

"And now for the boys!" he called, crossing the stage to the other bowl with a hint of a skip.

"This year's lucky winner is... Doug Philips!" announced the escort in a male pitched squeak, glancing around to see where the contestant would pop up. The cameras zoomed in on a tall, pale boy was making his way to the stage, his dark, curly hair blowing in the wind. The girls in the Capitol would be all over this guy for sure, and if he played how he looked, he would definitely get a lot of sponsors. He glared at the blue escort when he reached out to shake hands, causing the escort to retract his hand and wipe it nervously on his tiger striped blazer. Ugh, these escorts were ridiculous, always trying to start new fads.

"Everyone give it up for this year's tributes!" He cheered, scurrying off stage quickly with the two menacing tributes following behind.

The screen quickly switched from the pair from District 2, to the extremely anxious crowd from District 3, nervously awaiting the reaping and standing among tall, dirty buildings. They buzzed about with fear and most had a frazzled look about them as they watched their children like hawks, praying that their offspring would not be chosen.

Jerry Frade, the District three's mentor, began an awkward and mumbled speech about how district 3 was going to win this year's games. I sighed and shook my head at Jerry, silently. It had been years since three had won but, of course, they were always hoping.

"... So the odds... _will_ be ever... in our favour," he finished, and twitched over to where his chair on the side of the stage was, safely away from the blunt of the spotlight.

"This year's girl tribute for the games will be... Rhiannon Lash!" called out their peppy escort. A blond, almost golden haired girl was bravely making her way up the steps of the stage while several cries of sorrow echoed around the square. The girl shakily smiled at someone in the audience, her green, knee length dress blowing behind her in the wind, creating an angel-like impression, while her grey eyes stormed about listlessly. She looked straight at one of the cameras for a moment, smiling sadly before Ms. Perky started to speak again.

"And the boy tribute this year will be... Charles Hunter!" Charles made his way up to the stage, limping slightly. The bright pink and green guide gave him her attempt at a warm smile which was greeted by an ice cold glare.

I now felt genuinely sorry for the escort, she had tried and tried and tried to get these people excited about the reaping but no one seemed to even want to put even a fraction of a percentage of effort into the festivities. Ultimately, I think she gave up, figuring that there were better things to put forward with her hard work . I watched her as she sighed and clomped off the stage, defeated by the lack of enthusiasm at the reaping.

The tributes hastily shook hands, unable to meet their new opponent's eyes, and sauntered off to their justice building to have a few last moments with their families. I wondered if I should feel sorry for them too, but quickly passed the notion away in my head. They were Districts, and you were not supposed to feel bad for the Districts.

District 4 had a slightly happier look to it, but maybe that was just because the escort there was a lot more cheerful and had the ability to get the crowd excited. I watched as she hopped along the stage, smiling and waving like it was her biggest moment.

"It's time to pick the tributes!" She boomed excitedly, the long, purple, sparkling dress engulfing her large, orange frame.

"Ladies first!" Nell called, waddling towards the girl's reaping bowl and dunking her fat hand into it, she wiggled the extreme appendage around until she caught a name and read slowly in her big voice. "This year's female tribute is... Kyra Ivanova!" People cheered and clapped a little at the girl's mention and even a few catcalls popped through the crowd.

A blond girl stalked forwards from the 17s, fluttering her dark eyelashes at the closest camera. Once on stage, she smiled mysteriously at the crowd, fluttering her dress and blowing kisses at the crowd. She, too, would get many sponsors due to her looks. I smiled and made another note to myself, wondering if she would be a killer or not.

Nell headed over to the boys bowl, neatly dodging the pretty female who was currently occupying most of the stage with her dramatics.

"Leon Taylor!" Screeched Nell, loudly to win back the crowds attention. A tall, athletic looking boy holding a cheesy grin stepped up to the stage, waving with big strokes over his head. He jogged across the stage and struck a smile out to the girls. Another sponsor taker already.

Clasping the girl's slender hand in his own large one, the boy shook the girl's hand which led to a disgusted look shot at the boy's mane like hair from the female tribute. He just winked at her and walked off the stage, falling into a dazed sort-of look.

The pair from district 5 are opposite in every way possible. The girl has long black hair and the boy's hair is short and orange, the girl has dark brown eyes and the boy has ice blue eyes, the girl is tall and the boy is small, the girl was chosen, the boy volunteered.

The girl, stumbled up to the stage when her name was called, close to tears. Shooting unhappy looks at the back of the square, she tried to fit herself into the smallest place possible and closed her eyes, obviously wanting to be somewhere else. Weak, I wrote down on my pad a few other notes, she would probably die in the bloodbath anyways, no need to set any traps for her just yet.

The 13 year old boy, however, swiftly volunteered for an older looking male and made his way to the front, narrowing his eyes at everyone he passed while a few sniggers circled around the square, whoops were made and I thought I saw dirt and sand being thrown at the boy. He was scrawny and freckled, with the most noticeable feature being his bright orange hair, a ginger. Stupid and fighter were written onto my pad.

"You'll never win, Otto!" A male voice mocked from the seventeens.

"Burn in hell!" Otto shouted back, spitting towards the group. A woman tried to run towards the stage but peacekeepers escorted her and the seventeen boy away, both obviously the thirteen's relatives, marked by their orange hair.

"Amelia Kift and Otto Erastus!" Called the escort, clapping loudly into the microphone to draw everyone's attention. All were then herded off the stage and to the justice building.


	5. Chapter 3

"Bliss McKenna!" calls the District 6 escort, in a sing- song voice. A pale girl with bright, red hair stumbles to the stage, her large blue eyes flickering around the crowd nervously, wildly.

"Bliss!" A little girl with the same red hair rushes towards the stage, only to be pushed back by the Peacekeepers. She's crying and screaming for the girl as the Peacekeepers drag her out of the town square, the parents numbly walking behind. And Bliss, she just stared in horror at her little sister as she was forced out of sight from her family.

A sigh of nervous relief echoes through the crowd and the tribute's face droops, her long, dark eyelashes moving to cover her fierce, blue eyes and the tears that are welling up in those big orbs. Oh the Capitol viewers must be sapping this up, I'm sure they've all blown out the tissue boxes by now.

The escort tries to move on by shouting cheerfully: "And this year's male tribute is... Hugh York!"

A small boy with freckles thrown carelessly across his face wanders across the square, his ginger hair immediately catching the cameras attention. Hugh bounds up the small steps to the stage as he lifts the edge of his mouth up to form a distorted smile and waves with a flick of his hand to several other nerds standing among the crowd before swaggering to his opponent, he shakes her hand gently and even gives her a little pat on the back reassuringly. Before they turn to go I can see him mouth something, a question, to her; _Allies?_

"Hello my good people or District Seven. How are you this wonderful day?" Peaches, the escort, calls in a soft and gentle voice. I had always loved Peaches; she was the best when it came to calming people down and keeping a crowd, no matter how big, under control. I smiled as the audience turned towards her immediately and thought of when we dated in school, but I was pulled back from my silent reverie to Peaches announcing the first District 7 female.

"Azure Hoc!" Peaches cheered happily, remaining somewhat calm. A mass of gasps filled the town square and everyone turned to the fifteen section, then a hush of silence and surprise circulated through the square.

"No!" A young woman, with curly black hair and a beautiful face, screeched from the crowd. She looked about twenty and was almost an eerie identical to that of the female tribute, Azure. "No! Someone, please! Please volunteer for her!" The desperation in her voice grabbed at my bones and shook them to the core. "She can't go into an arena, she'll never make it!" The Peacekeepers were moving in, just as they had been for every other hysterical family member when the tribute spoke.

"No," She had made her way to the bottom of the stage steps with the help of a boy who looked to be about seventeen. "Jannie, I can do this. Don't ask other people to volunteer for me."

"You cannot pretend to be independent on this Azu!" She yelled, more disappointed and frustrated than scared. "You can't do it, you know you can't!"

"But it's better than risking someone else's life just so I can stay here." She said calmly. "No, Jannie."

I stared at my TV screen for answers. This didn't make sense, why had the Peacekeepers allowed that long of a conversation to take place? I searched the faces of the Peacekeepers and found pity as they watched the female tribute.

The girl on the stage slowly turned towards the audience, her striking sapphire eyes moving across the crowd and searching for... nothing. Her eyes stared endlessly off into the crowd of her peers and District members, as if she could not see anyone, as if she was blind. Even Johanna Mason, sitting behind, looked surprised and upset at the turn of events.

Peaches, determined to win back her audience, carried on like it had never happened, like a blind girl had never been chosen to enter the games. Like she wasn't instantaneously chosen to die.

I groaned and held my head in my hands for a moment. I took a few seconds to collect myself and then I realized that there would probably be more sponsors in this Games than any other Games in the history of Panem. It would be the most talked about Games for years to come! I would be famous, more than famous, I would be the worlds best Head Gamemaker.

I chuckled to myself, pleased with the way the reapings were going, and turned back to the screen where Peaches was crossing the stage and dipping her slender hand into the oversized bowl, she picked a name.

"Clevis McFarlin!" She smiled at the boy's sections easily, her eyes searching for the newest tribute.

"I volunteer!" It was a loud and outright plea. The cameras focused in on where a tall, slightly tanned boy was making his way to the front, giving a reassuring smile to several people in the large crowd.

"And your name is..." Peaches inquired sweetly, leaning in to feign interest in the boy.

"Garmal McFarlin."

"Let's hear it for our District 7 tributes!" Peaches cheered with much enthusiasm, laying a hand on each of the tributes. " Looks like it's going to be the best year ever! This year our one of our tributes will win for the District!" announced the escort cheerily. She was obviously reusing this speech, she almost sounded bored as she said the last and most important: "May the odds be _ever_ in your favour."

In District 8, it was raining so hard that the escort had to get someone to follow after her with an umbrella and all of the slips of paper were wet so the ink had run and blended with a sloppy mush of paper.

The escort looked disgusted as she struggled to stick her hand in the bowl and pluck out a soggy lump of paper from the pile. She looked confused, holding it up for someone to examine it. After having a tall man in a suit whisper the name in her ear, she smiled a big, fat, fake smile and told all of the soaking wet people in the square whose fate it held.

"Chella Wright!"

A small, thin girl with long, black hair that stuck on to her shivering body, miserably stumbled to the front, her brown eyes standing from her pale skin in a sickly, almost ghostly way. A wave of relief was shown on a number of faces. She obviously wasn't very well liked.

"And now the boys." Announced the defeated escort in a peppy tone, trying to keep the dreariness from seeping into her voice. It was hard to not feel dreary, the rain and the lack of energy from the crowd added to the affect.

"Teal Bay." She groaned, as ink dripped onto her white shoes that matched her white get-up. I heard her squeal in anger and surprise as she hopped around, first cursing District 8 then just plain old screaming about how all of the Districts except for one were horrible, dirty, ugly places. I could tell that this would be the last time _she_ would see fame. If she weren't already going, I would put in a remark myself. They had muted her rant for the rest of the Capitol and the Districts, but for me I could hear every last offense and mutter through which she expressed her hatred for the production part of the country. The crowd looked shocked until someone broke the awkward silence.

"I volunteer!" Called a deep voice from the back where a tall muscular man was making his way through the crowd, people quickly scrabbling away from him.

"What is...?"

"Syne Torqua." He grumbled at her, pushing away a microphone from his face.

I added his name to my small list of strong tributes. At least he looked strong; he was muscular but lean and had the face of a man. His height was easily taller than the rest of the boys of his age and his voice resonated with a dark, barrelling, and chocolate tone.

"S. I. N." I jotted down happily. "T.O.R.K.A" I hummed to myself a little ditty out of sheer delight, I hoped that he would be the bully of the group, which he would be our cunning killer that we needed. But I kept myself a little grounded because sometimes these giants just turned out to be softies.

"You spelled it wrong." A voice from behind me sung. I spun around to see Enjie smiling a wide mouthed grin at me.

"I think I would know how to spell my own contestant's name." I contorted, giving my old friend and stylist and big hug.

"Well it's not spelt like that, so obviously you spelt it wrong." She bounced he pink curly hair and sat on my desk. She was quite petit and it was easy enough to move her off my desk, but I enjoyed her company and feared her temper.

"Okay then, how is it spelled?" I turned my back to her but none the less shuffling my papers as I heard the escort for 8 shout out.

"Well, what an exciting reaping. This year's games are going to be great." She was already leaving the stage as the mayor emotionlessly delivered a short speech.

"Ugh, that escort was horrible wasn't she?" Enjie sighed. "Anyways!" She perked up again like a dog that was offered a nice treat. "It's spelled S, Y, N, E." She paused, glancing at her nails a little. "T, O, R, Q, U, A."

"Uh huh, thanks for that Enjie, but I really got to get back to the reapings now." I smiled at her politely, shuffling her out the door, forgetting the real reason of why she came here in the first place.

"But I—" she started as I had pushed her through the doorway.

"Buh bye now!" I closed the door tightly and returned to my favourite chair where the screen in front of me flickered to District 9, there, it was also raining, but they had had the sense to cover up the bowls. I wonder what genius had thought of that.

The District 9 escort, Sulpicia, smiled a lot, which almost made up for the last escorts lack of enthusiasm.

"This year's female tribute is... Nyla Triss!" Her head popped up from the slip of paper and her eyes circled the square to find the chosen girl.

A skinny girl with golden blond hair that flowed to just below her shoulders slowly stumbled to the stage, nervously glancing around at the sorry faces, her eyes a bright blue. Sulpicia gave the tribute a big smile, showing off all of her rainbow coloured teeth. The edge of the tributes mouth turned down at the corners in... disapproval? Sulpicia straightened up, smiling at the cameras before turning to the boys reaping bowl and clawing through the slips.

"Mark Vires!" she called out in a triumphant voice. A skinny boy wearing black clothes and a head filled with long, dirty blond hair calmly walks up onto the stage, his face drained of emotion. Sulpicia tries out a smile and aims it at the tribute, which, he ignores diligently.

Pressing the mute button, I fish around in my pocket for the bell. My avox comes in with a plate laden with my favourite meal of lamb and applesauce, topped with a bucket full of sugar and cherries. I smiled at the deliciously sweet meal sat in front of me and began to relish in the feeling of Head Gamemaker. My avox bowed silently and as she left the room, my eyes followed her out. The sweetness of my red haired avox girl, and even better yet that I could call her _my _avox. It felt like a dream come true or a nightmare turned sweet.

**Made the connection?**

**Yes, this is the 71****st**** Hunger Games, so it will have some characters in it made by Suzanne Collins.**

**Edited by The Idea Guru**

**Well, practically written by The Idea Guru**


	6. Chapter 4

The next escort to smile dauntingly at the cameras treated the reaping stage as a catwalk, her wide hips were swaying until she reached the end, before blowing a sloppy kiss to her frightened and disturbed audience of District 10. Leaning forward and tugging at the corner of her mouth to create a joking half smile as she attempted to gracefully dip her hand into the bowl to pluck out a name, only to have all of her otherworldly bracelets clang noisily on the glass.

"Pea Adams!" She read, excitement colouring her annoying voice and stardom shining in her eyes.

A pretty, tanned girl with dark brown hair stiffly walked up to the stage and shot a helpless look around the square with her large, brown eyes before the dark eyelashes curled over and hid them from view. She looked sickly with fear, hate, and sorrow as she sauntered quietly to the side of the stage, passing by the escort with no acknowledgement to the annoying woman. This girl, Pea Adams, did not look capable to kill an ant, let alone a person.

Weak. I wrote it down and studied my list. Strong, small, brave, stupid, foolish, and loved. We had so much to look forward to this year even with minimal careers. It gave me the excited rush all over again but it was soon replaced by a terrified sort of feeling. What if my idea for the arena wasn't good enough? What if they didn't want to kill each other? What if I became too attached to my tributes?

It had happened in years past, a promising new Head Gamemaker would step into his position ready and willing to continue the greatness of the games only to back down or go easy on his or her tributes. It caused a great disruption among the Gamemaker Society because the Head Gamemaker would ultimately try to sabotage the games, meaning that they must be removed immediately. Snow was never happy when that happened and often wanted an extra amount of fighting and tricks as a makeup for the grievances that were made.

What if I was like that? What if suddenly I became all too attached to my tributes because I couldn't bear the weight? Everyone knew what happened to removed Gamemakers and it made me shudder to think that my fate could easily be just the same. "No," I said out loud to myself. "I have worked too hard to get here, I've wanted this position for all my life and I will not allow my pity for the Districts to cloud my judgement." I clenched and unclenched my fists several times before I looked back down at my notes. "I will not now, nor ever, pick favourites or feel sympathy for those who are fighting. They deserve it."

I steeled myself against the inevitable occurrence that was to come, unfortunately I could only postpone it for so long. Eventually all Gamemakers lose their ability to remain unbiased and not pick favourites. Just as eventually all tradition must break itself.

The female escort ran her slender fingers through her glossy hair, giving us a glimpse of the dark green hair hidden behind the blond and blue layers. Straightening her fluffy skirt, she held up a new name and announced it officially, keeping her eyes on the camera.

"Arrett Hayes!"

The escort's eyes darted to the crowd, hoping to catch the new tribute as he made his way up the stairs that often represented no turning back.

A small, pale boy with strawberry blond hair appeared from the 12's, his head was held high and his eyes showed no emotion. He had freckles thrown sporadically across his face and his eyes looked like they belonged to a cat, with a green so vivid it was almost unreal and narrowed in a way that made one think that he saw everything. This boy appeared strong in every sense, he was small but had a good build to him and a hardy stride as he walked. He shot a smile at the older tribute next to him.

I was astounded by this boy's optimism when faced with his current predicament and made a note to watch his progress as the games went on. I certainly had a feeling about this one.

"Let's hope that the District 10 tributes can win for us this year!" announced the escort as she started off a round of scattered applause from the solemn crowd. The screen flickered to where the District 11 crowd members were waiting.

Reaching in and scrabbling around for a name slowly, the old escort managed to grip a slip of paper and hold it up to his yellow eyes.

"Jenna Reed!"

A girl, with blond hair so pale it looked white, was ascending the steps when someone made the daring decision to volunteer.

"I volunteer in place of Jenna," she shyly told the escort and the watching crowd. A deep and sorrowful moan erupted from the back, where the family members were standing. The newer tribute pushed Jenna aside gently to climb the steps in her place.

"What's your name?" Asked the escort, bending down to appear the same height as the tribute.

"Selena Yodis." As she spoke, her long hair blew back, a mixture of darkness and a dull red. Her bright blue eyes shone out in comparison to her pale skin.

The escort slowly straightened up, his face a painful grimace, and shuffled over to where the boys reaping bowl stood. He did look a bit old to still be escorting tributes, I remember watching him when I was little. But I suppose he did a well enough job.

"Kenzie Sykes!" He called, his voice cracking.

A small boy from the front stumbled up, glancing around at the staring faces, his short and straw like hair ruffled and his brown eyes rounded with fear. The escort threw a subdued and aged smile at the boy before grimly looking up to focus his eyes on a camera.

The last District, 12, was always the hopeless one, with only one, very drunk mentor sleeping at the back of the stage. I almost felt sorry for the future tributes as it was obvious that Haymitch could never keep a tribute alive, but it was hilarious to see him lazing about the stage and making a fool of himself. This year 12 had a new escort who I am told is named Effie Trinket. She bounced onto the stage and straight to the girl's reaping bowl. Her bright pink curls were bouncing everywhere.

"Ren Zaira!"

A dark haired, grey eyed girl with a signifying olive skin tone kept up a brisk walk to the front, her thick hair flowing along behind her, the typical Seam girl. She held a serious look on her face as she reached the stage, every step bringing her closer to Haymitch. Suddenly, he snapped up, waking from his sleep and jolting upright with a loud half-grunt, half-unintelligible yell. Looking around to see what had happened, he spotted the tribute, her eyes round and her mouth forming a wide, surprised "O". Effie tried to carry on with the reaping but Haymitch wanted his say on the reaping so far.

"She's not much of a looker, is she?" he scoffed, making an awkward situation even worse with his unruly attitude and unrestrained mouth. A gasp emanated from the crowd who swivelled their heads to the tribute and the mentor. The tension was so thick _I _could have cut it with a knife from where I sat.

I burst out laughing so loudly that the sofa wobbled. The tribute looked mortified before pulling her face together in a mask of coldness and hatred towards her soon to be mentor and Effie's horror framed her face. She turned to the cameras and then back to Haymitch and then to the peacekeepers who say by calmly, making no move to deal with a barely sober Haymitch.

After a moment of utter stillness, Effie dipped her hand into the boy's bowl, her face still showing the remnants of shock.

"Jon Neal," she uttered in a quiet voice.

The tribute moving to the dais had blond, almost white, wavy hair. He was pale with blue eyes and a cheesy grin painted on his face. He strolled up to the stage, turning to wave at his adoring fans before stepping up and grabbing the microphone off poor Effie.

"I'd just like to say what a pleasure it's been to live in District 12. I am sorry to..." Effie held her hand out for the microphone, impatiently, making a noise at the back of her throat, the tribute calmly gave it back. Effie gave a small wave at the camera before turning to speak to the tributes. The screen switched back to Caesar, for him to say a few concluding words about how this year was going to be the best year ever, before turning itself off.

Well, this year's games had all the characters, it needs its setting. Ordering some chocolate and curry, my special brain food, I got to work on the specially made traps. With me in Head Gamemaker's position, this _was_ going to be the best games ever. Plucking some sheets from my desk, I started to write the letter to President Snow about my finishing touches with the special arena for this year. And prayed that he would love it.

...

_From your chosen Gamemaker,_

_Seneca Crane_

**Reaping- Check**

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews- they make me feel loved**

**Also, a big thank you to my Beta, The-Idea-Guru, again**


	7. Chapter 5

**So as to not waste time on train rides, I have decided to only write 2 districts. I'm sorry that I could not do everyone's district, but I wanted to get to the games as quickly as possible. Also, I'm sorry that it takes ages for me to update, but I can honestly promise you that I will never give up on it halfway.**

**Hope you like it!**

**District 1 escort, Alley Kidd**

"I could so take you," scoffed Morgan, narrowing her eyes at the bulky guy in front of her, who was unabashedly staring her down with the nastiest look possible. They'd been sitting there for over an hour glaring at each other and assessing the other's weaknesses. He was beefy, probably a slow runner and definitely a bigger target, and he was overly confident, cocky even. Cocky people never win.

"Look at those arms, you'd be lucky to find a muscle the size of a peanut in those twigs." He sneered, spitting a little as he said the word 'peanut.' "Anyway," he smirked "we both know who's going to win these games, and who's going to end up with a broken arm." Brake replied haughtily.

"Yeah?" she snickered in an irritated tone. "Well go on then, prove it." Morgan stuck out a large, muscled arm to her opponent and Brake clasped Morgan's sausage-like fingers within his own roughly. They gave each other one more good stare and started the fight.

"3, 2, 1... GO!"

The dining table wobbled slightly, making a sad creaking noise as the two tributes fought upon it to win, a look of concentration on surfaced Morgan's face while a calm but deadly expression was held on Brake's.

I poked Gloss, this year's male mentor, urgently and wide eyed hoping for him to go and stop the match but all he did was laugh and tell me that a bit of friendly competition before the games always helped. Though what they were doing certainly didn't look friendly.

I ran my fingers through my silky hair nervously, having never seen tributes behave like this outside of the arena. If this one arm wrestling match turned into a full-blown fight and one tribute killed the other, I would be held responsible and I was sure that both Crane and Snow would have my head. Flattening down my dress, I got up and stalked over quietly but still anxious to where the tributes sat and arm wrestled in a way that was destined to be a brawl.

"I...er... think that's enough for... " I stuttered and stopped at the hazing, malicious stares I received. I gulped, hard.

Bringing both fists down, Brake smirked menacingly at the frowning Morgan who was now rubbing her hand hurriedly and calling for a rematch.

"I always knew that female's were the weaker sex," he announced loftily before waltzing out of the room and down the corridor.

"He wishes. In my games, the last four were all female," grumbled Nira, the female mentor for District 1. She pulled up her fiery hair and leaned back against the wall. "And all of us killed men just like him." There were harsh claw marks down the side of her throat and she gave a vixen's smile as she touched them, remembrance floating effortlessly across her pale features.

I shuddered at the girl, not any older than I was, that sat in front of me and without knowing, sighed. This year, my tributes were not to be desired, having come from a district that was pampered as much as mutts were, and now being trained by previous tributes that had also not been favoured or desired. This was going to be a long train ride if I didn't put any effort into making it a better one.

It could very well be the last train ride that one of the two would ever have, alive that is. So I reasoned with myself to make it as pleasant as possible for the two tributes and their mentors who were ultimately doomed to fail no matter what.

"Well, I think it's time for dinner." I inclined "Let's all sit down and…" I paused, looking at the three unfriendly faces staring back at me, all with the same look that was telling me to be quiet. "Actually, I'll go and get Brake." I offered politely, dusting off imaginary, microscopic dirt from my nice dress.

I walked down to where the tribute rooms were situated and knocked on the male tribute's door, calling him to dinner. There were shuffling noises from inside the cabin but with no answer that could be distinguished as Brake responding to my suggestion of food. I waited a few moments patiently but the smell from the dining room called my attention back before long, and I found it leading me to the empty dining table in the dining cabin.

I smiled to myself and took a seat at one of the nice, wooden backed chairs at the table. Excited for food and the idea of a full belly once more, even though it had only been two hours since I last ate made me grin even more. I found that almost any dinner on the train could be saved if it had great food despite the terrible company I was currently keeping.

"What are you so happy about?" questioned Gloss, a slightly amused look on his face, strolling carefree into the cart. He sat down directly next to me and brushed my hand with his own some, causing me to embarrassingly startle at his touch. I gave him a vicious warning stare before returning to the smile I had worn so proudly up until then. Morgan, thankfully, chose that moment to make an almost welcome appearance and sat down ungracefully, to begin unfolding the napkin in front of her without thought. By the time Brake had arrived back, Morgan and Gloss had already started eating; in fact, Morgan had almost finished apart from a small amount of mashed turnip, which she was still spooning in, and a random mess of spinach and cress that she stated tastes like burnt dog.

I had scoffed at this in disbelief. What lack of manners some of these districts had! Even District 1 had terrible table manners, and they were supposedly the most humane of the districts. Well, it could have been worse; at least she's using a spoon; I mentally chimed in my head. I've heard that some tributes from 12 eat with their fists, and I've even heard that they have eaten their own neighbours and children because of their savagery.

I forced a harsh and unpleasant smile before digging in to my own meal, soon it will be all over.

**Brake's Ridge's POV**

That escort really pisses me off, always telling people what to do. It's my games, I'm going to be the fucking winner, and_ she_ should be listening to me.

I shoot her a murderous look across the table that she misses completely because she's too engaged with her damn food and that idiot Gloss. Stupid female's, they're all the same, they take your money and your house and are always chatting about nothing in particular and then they go and mess up your life. To unwittingly prove my point on the matter, she starts rambling on about something completely irrelevant to nobody in particular and then she looks at us like she wants us to give a damn.

I stuff my food in quickly, just wanting to get back to my room on the train where it's quiet but not with an empty stomach. A servant of some kind takes away the plate in front of me and replaces it with a new one full of a chocolate mush with some sort of fruit mixed in, it looks disgusting so I sniff it in the most annoying way possible to see if the escort will do anything. Snorting, I make a big show about how gross it looks and the whole time she wears the same horrified expression. Ha! I dig in, using my fingers to effectively scoop up the whippy cream from the top before switching to my spoon and loading it with a large mouthful of creamy chocolate to transport to my mouth, swishing it around grossly to make lots of unnecessary noise.

She pulls a mask of fake optimism and acceptance as she blabbers "Mmm, this is delicious. I asked the kitchen to make it especially. It has a slight nutty flavour to it, don't you think?"

I ignored the useless natter coming from the escort's corner to finish up my meal before nosily pushing the wooden chair back to escape to my room right as she is asking me a pointless question on how things are going for me so far. I stomp off after shooting her a nice glare and a snarl, just to rough her up a bit. I don't see why we can't just get on to the games already without all this useless, sponsor catching stuff. It's obvious I'm going to win, with or without them, so why bother?

Burping loudly, I pounced onto the bed, making myself comfortable without the need for any sleep clothes or 'pyjamas' as they call them. Nobody needs more than one outfit; nobody needs big, shiny boots with blue buttons down the side. Stupid escort, I stifle a yawn, always trying to be so damn fancy with her big ass money wasting clothes and her prissy I'm-better-than-you attitude…

"Get up, rise and shine, bright and early. You know, the early bird catches the worm!"

I opened my eyes.

"Aaagghh, bright light, no, take it away, TAKE IT AWAY!" I screamed at the wide-eyed escort, and pulled my pillow above my head to block out the new day. Her footsteps get quieter and quieter as she backs out of my room and down the corridor. I groan, pushing back the pillow to face the light before retreating under the covers and going back to sleep.

The games are going to be here sooner than I think, I'm going to need as much rest and strength as possible.

**Good? Not so good? Cheesy?**

**A big thank you to my beta The-Idea-Guru**

**Also a big thank you to everyone that reviewed last chapter: (yes, I have a who reviewed last chapter list)**

**-IceTigers**

**-Steff Malfoy1**

**-The Friend **

**-Axxi**

**An even BIGGER thank you to CITRUSZEN, who reviews a lot, thanks.**

**If this list ever gets over 10 people in it, I will sing and dance with joy!**

**I will TRY to quickly write another chapter- I don't want to be one of those people that say "Get ready for another chapter next month", so let's all hope that it doesn't get to that.**

**Try being the key word**


	8. Chapter 6

**I am finally writing a new chapter- WHOOO!**

**In honour of valentine's day, which I admit, I missed the deadline for, my Beta, The-Idea-Guru, thought that we should add a bit of romance.**

**Also, this chapter isn't that long, so I might do a longish chapter next time, which we WON'T have to wait months/year's for (hopefully) because I am already half-way through ****J**

**Pea Adams POV- District 10**

The train silently pulled away from the station and District 10 melted into the distance. I held my breath and closed my eyes, pushing back the thick lump in my throat that was working it's way into a mournful sob. I wished that I could go home and crawl under my scratchy, cold, wool covers, I wished that I could walk out into the chilly morning air and feed the chickens with the leftovers from a collective weeks worth of dinners, but knowing from my past experiences, that wishing did no good. All I was focused on, all I was holding onto was just trying to escape from my current surroundings; the bright glow everything held on it, the beautifully fake and superficial lacquered wood and the multi-colored mirrors that were so disorienting, even the clean, plastic smell and the freshly vacuumed scent that lingered in every atom of the train compartments.

There was no reprieve from the onslaught of memories from my fading homeland. _Why me? _Over and over I asked myself in no coherent ways. Eyes burned into my back, I could sense them in the way that one can sense cold or hot. Unwilling to turn around and face the owner of the eyes, the beautiful eyes of that beautiful boy, I solemnly stared out the window further.

I could feel a small drip of water running down my face, leaving a wet trail behind it. I looked up to find where it was coming from only to realize that I was crying. _Damit._ I quickly wiped away the salty drip only to find another halfway down my face. The battle with my tears lasted a few minutes, trying not to sniffle and sound weak in front of Arrett. _That would totally make my day 100 billion times better. _I bit out to myself internally. Trying to do what my brother told me to, I struggled to think about the happier, lighter times in my life, when all I had to worry about were chores, school, work, and keeping my secret infatuation with a boy a secret.

"_Don't cry Pea, it's not the end of the world,"_ my mum would say, smiling widely and bending down to hug me before straightening up and kissing my forehead. My mum never cried. She said it was ok when you were scared or angry, but she never cried. _But_, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach,_ she cried when I spoke to her for the last time. She cried during our final meeting._

**District 10 escort**

Reapplying the glossy pink lipstick and fluffing up my hair once more, I turned to where the voice was coming from. What a nuisance, really. It takes a lot of hard work to look just as fabulous and entertaining as I do. You think people would be able to understand that. _Peppy, cheery, happy. _I reminded myself. You never knew when Snow would be watching the cameras in the train.

"Yeah... coming," I answered vaguely. I hate meals. All it ever turned out to be was a bunch of boring people stuffing themselves with fatty foods. Eating was for the ignorant, poor, overweight people of Panem. Never a superstar like I.

I pouted at the mirror once more, even though I already looked 175 percent perfect. Having given my eyes another layer of eye liner before turning to the door and sauntering towards the dining room, I stopped at the door, glaring at this year's tributes until they noticed I was staring at them. _Ugh, I hate tributes. I cannot wait until I get that role in the new Sasha Vladjek movie, then we'll see who gets to play babysitter for the whiniest, most boring entertainers of the year. _I smirked contentedly to myself before giving them both a huge fake smile, I had to look good for this. I swaggered to the middle of the room, reached over and plucked an apple from the fruit bowl, I'd probably just drink some Removinus Wine later and that would be that.

No one was speaking at the table.

"So, are you looking forward to the games? I hear this year that you're all up against the most blood thirsty bunch yet. I bet you," I pointed at the ugly little girl to my right, "Won't even make it to the second day." I said nonchalantly, leaving before they could answer or retaliate, wiggling my hips as I went from the room back to my cart with its many mirrors.

"Don't worry," I heard one of the mentors telling them. "She's always like this, she'll probably warm up eventually." It sure sounded reassuring, good thing it just wasn't true or I might have had to have been nice to those attention whores.

I scoffed loud enough for them to hear me from the dining room behind me. The only reason I do this job is for the publicity, I mean, who would want to spend time with a load of dirty peasants from the Districts. Not to mention I got stuck with the ugliest girl I've ever seen in my life. I don't even think that she's heard of lip-gloss before. How unbelievably sad.

Once I got back to my room, I applied a second layer of powder to my cheeks, rubbing it in and posing for the mirror. Somehow I had to sneak out of escorting these two kids. I had a hair appointment at two tomorrow so that I could hit the Capitol with the style that was guaranteed to get me into the best parties ever. I was going to have my hair redone to match the outfit I had planned. It was going to look great.

I smiled to myself. Well, I guess I could just leave- only for a few hours?

**Arrett Hayes POV**

Sweating and panting, I pushed the covers back and turned on the bedside lamp. I was too hot to sleep now. I was too nervous and so exhausted that I was now beyond sleep. _I wonder if Pea can sleep right now? _I mused to myself lightly. Not that I really cared or anything. I mean, everyone in 10 knows that she has the biggest thing for me, stupid girl. _I'll probably end up having to kill her first because she'll only get in the way. God, I swear if she follows me around like a puppy… I neither want nor need an ally_. Thinking about killing Pea made me distraught in weird ways, ways I'd never thought about before. She was so unbelievably irritating.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid… _I growled.

I got up and stepped into the fluffy slippers provided by my bed before quietly stumbling towards the door and slowly pulling down the handle more forcefully than was probably required. I didn't care. I decided that I was hungry and began meandering throughout the train, running my hands along the wall and pondering the bother that was Pea.

_I shouldn't even be calling her by her name. She's the enemy. Yes, the enemy, the person that I have to kill to survive so I can get back to the farm and help Rose. Oh God, what would Niart and Kello say if they ever heard about this… _I froze my thoughts. Was it really okay to think of them at this time? _They would want me to be level headed and make it out alive, not worry about family and annoying girls. Just focus and breathe._

Deciding to look for the fruit bowl that was out on the table earlier, I arrived in the dining room and scanned the large table, finding no fruit but pulling out a chair and sitting down anyway.

A quick intake of breath led me to glance around the room. Pea, this year's chosen girl tribute, the past three year's biggest thorn in my side, sat opposite me at the other end of the room staring at me with her large, round eyes, a blanket of darkness almost concealing her from view. God, she gave me the creeps sometimes. Yet somehow, I felt an unerring pity for her right now, she was younger than I and therefore more vulnerable, especially to me.

She hadn't talked much since she arrived here, just watched as our District vanished into nothing then rushed to her room. Apart from dinner, I hadn't seen her at all, how odd for Pea. Normally she was everywhere that I was.

"Hi," she muttered, just loud enough so that I could hear her.

I gave a slight nod in return. Figures she would try and make conversation now, just at the time that I didn't want to talk.

We sat there for a couple of hours, me staring at her, her staring at me. I wavered back and forth so many times, what should I say, what could I say to a girl who I was probably going to murder nearly bare handedly and most likely single handedly? I could tell her how much she annoyed me every waking minute of my day. I could say that she should be scared and run from me as fast as she can the second that the games allow it. I could ask her to make it out alive, and to take care of my family and her family and everyone in 10. I could say how pretty she is, her tanned skin complementing the large, brown eyes that softly watched me, the long, dark eyelashes that covered her eyes like curtains, the elegant way in which her tall figure perched on the edge of the seat. I would ask her to run away with me and we could find some way to escape the arena together. I could say that I wanted her to live, that I really did like her. I could say this, but I knew it wasn't true. We were going into the games together, it couldn't be true.

"I'm going to bed," I announced, standing up and walking away.

"Goodnight," she answered softly, sealing a silent deal between us that left us standing on a crumbling cliff of time and faith.

**Pea Adams POV**

My eyes flickered open.

I remember a crowd. I remember a large crowd.

"... _Pea Adams!"_

I remember the look on my brother's face. His eyes... the shine had gone from them entirely, like he was dead on the inside but still alive.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the early morning air. "I will do what I must."

I sat up, prepared for whatever anyone could throw at me, prepared to fight for the privilege of life, prepared to win. Even if I thought that I loved him. I, we, would win.

**District 10 escort**

I sat up, pulling the pink lacy eye mask off of my face and turning round to glance at the clock.

_11:05_

Groaning I pulled the eye mask back on and lay back down. How hard would it be for them to get up on their own, lazy little children.

**Longer, shorter QUICKER UPDATES? Tell me.**

**Thank you to my beta The-Idea-Guru, all of the people who have reviewed and everyone that is reading this ****J**

**This chapters who reviewed last chapter list:**

IceTigers

Axxi

Freedom of Thought

Shiningpurplestar

I know lots of people (Freedom of Thought and anyone else) reviewing or PMing me, say that I could take my time to write chapters, but it's been around two months, TWO MONTHS, since I wrote the last chapter. The more you say that I don't have to do this quickly, the slower I go. DO NOT encourage me to go any slower!


	9. Chapter 7

**Ummm, the more you review the quicker I will update!**

**I have decided that it would be better to write the first view of the Capitol from everyone's POV. This will introduce the tributes personalities for the first time.**

**Tell me if I should do more of it or if it is boring to read everyone's tributes :)**

**Morgan Leal's POV District 1**

The Escort had us all lined up at the window so we could see the Capitol. When I tried to walk away, she gave me this scary look. I mean, I was not scared, it was just threatening. What a bitch. When I win, I'll show her the real meaning of respect to girls who are obviously more muscular and attractive than her.

I wasn't really looking at the Capitol, just glaring at the spot on my chin in the reflection. It has to clear up before I arrive at the Capitol. Imagine how embarrassing it would be to turn up at the training centre with a huge, red spot on my chin!

I'm sure the Capitol was great, so I told the escort so and she smiled, thanked me and let me get back to my room. I squeezed the thing on my chin and I swear it just got bigger. Maybe if I put something on top of it, no one will notice. I tie a scarf around my chin and nod at my reflection in the mirror.

Hello, good looking, how are you today?

**Bracke Ridge's POV District 1**

I stare out at the Capitol. I was looking forward to coming here, but now I'm here it just seems too... shiny. Filled with dunderheads who shave their eyebrows and replace them with metallic studs, the Capitol, centre for the lucky idiots of Panem. What a waste.

A noise, thumping actually, I comes from somewhere behind me and I turn to see Morgan who comes back in from her room wearing a zebra striped scarf around her face. I burst out laughing.

"What in the fuck are you wearing?" I shouted, enjoying the moment. The smile etched onto my face just got bigger and bigger as she became angrier with me, her face flushing the brightest red I've ever seen. She reminded me of a new fruit I'd recently tasted called a tomato. I bounded forward to see what she was hiding behind the furry scarf thingy. I had imagined a stash of drugs or something, but instead a _HUGE_ spot was there, even redder than her hideous face. I heard the escort gasp from somewhere behind me but I ignored her, studiously focused on Morgan's oversized bump.

"Can I poke it?" I asked as the escort started to gag. Morgan took a lunge at me, swinging wildly as I riled her up. Luckily I sidestepped her just a second before she would have hit me, just enough to tease her. She slapped a meaty hand over her face and growled viciously. I urged her to have another go with a swift flick of my fingers to her face, but before she could get at me, the escort rushed in between us to get out of the room, probably to go to a bathroom where she could puke her guts out.

"I always knew women were the weaker sex," I announced as we both stared after her before I stalked of out of the room, leaving a pissy Morgan behind.

**Sienna Mahone's POV District 2**

I smiled at the thought of the Capitol. I have been working all of my life to get here. Years upon years upon years of hard training in any necessary weapon, and finally, my moments arrived. This was my year; I would win and be celebrated as the victor.

I will follow my family, my dreams. I've come ready, ready to win, and right now, staring out into the crowd of people surrounding the tribute train, people anxiously, excitedly awaiting my arrival, the winners arrival, I can feel, taste, smell victory. It's in my reach, so grab it while I can I will. It is mine.

**Doug Philips POV District 2**

Sienna had that evil look on her face again, her own twisted smile that showed up frequently when she was zoning out. It made me wonder where she went, but in my own reverie about her reveries, I forgot to stop watching her. She noticed me looking at her and glared right back at me with her cold unforgiving eyes. _Figures._

"What do you want, Bug Eyes?" She hissed, sneering at me angrily.

I glanced away and looked back at the Capitol, trying my best to ignore Miss Drama-Queen in the corner. The city looked amazing at night, buildings everywhere. The way that the lights were positioned, it gave the large city a sort of ethereal glow, all I was thinking was how surreal it all was.

I will win this year's games, I know it, but I also know that for me to win, 23 other people will have to die. Was I ready for this? Was I trained enough? Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with killing people if I get to live, but thinking of their families out there somewhere, watching me killing their children, it just sounds wrong.

I'm not scared to fight, to kill. I will succeed even if I have to destroy everyone in this arena's futures in my path. This will be a battle, my battle, but I will live through it, so Sienna looks rather silly now, stalking the train.

If I have to kill her, someone I had once admired, I will do it with a smile on my face. I know that it's coming, so I will be ready.

**Riannon Lash's POV District 3**

You could say the Capitol was a brightly coloured, happy place with beautiful surroundings. You could say it is a place where anything is possible, but I know that hundreds and hundreds of innocent children have died because of the Capitol. I know the truth as I'm sure lots other's had, most of them having died unnatural and unnecessary deaths in an arena full of never-ending horrors. Now it's my turn to fight, so fight for my life I will.

Of course, to come back victorious will be impossible because no one ever wins the game, but to try is brave enough for me. I fingered at the thick gold ring in my hand absentmindedly. What would Derek think?

The girl in the window stares wonderingly back at my face, picking out the determination in my expression, the angry hatred I feel towards the Capitol, so as I glare at my reflection, I realise one thing. The Capitol _will_ fall.

**Charles Hunter's POV District 3**

I glanced over at Rhiannon to see what she thought of the Capitol, but she just stared at the window, holding an angry expression onto her narrow face. I don't blame her, but there is no point in feeling sorry for her now, it's everyone for themselves out here.

I turned away from the window, sickened by the Capitol but not afraid.

I wonder how the other tributes will see me. The quiet boy with the strange scar on his face, a limp in his step. The boy from District 3 that died in the bloodbath, I can't quite remember his name. No one is famous for losing, no one is even remembered, but I won't lose. I will fight to the end, for my family, for my life, for my future.

**Kyra Lvanova District 4**

I posed at the mirror, widening my smile and waving at my reflection. My green eyes glittered in the light and the drapes of long, wavy pale blond hair that hung by my head surrounded my heart shaped face and cast shadows onto my clean, pale skin.

The dark eyelashes that curtained my vividly coloured eyes flickered quickly as I gazed into the face of beauty itself, my reflection glowing in the brightly lit room. I was meant for this plush and luxurious lifestyle. Actually, it was made for me. Everything was so beautiful here, shiny and sparkly and all made for precious little me. I wasn't worried about dying in the games; I knew I would live because I had the most ingenious strategy out there: I would simply allow all of my pathetic followers to protect me. Surely there would be more than enough people here willing to bow down to me, I mean, I was the richest, most beautiful girl in all of District 4. Step-daddy owns the largest packaging plant in all of Panem, so naturally that would only add to my greatness, I knew everyone would love me instantaneously. That gorgeous boy named Leo who was also from my District, but resided in the slums of the District, couldn't take his eyes off of me, I just knew it. Filthy peasant that he was, he was still very attractive.

I began to think about sponsors, who will be so captivated by my beauty as to aid me. There was no doubt that I would be loved by the crowd, the audience loved a good show and I certainly wasn't afraid to give it to them. The hunger games are not forgiving, I know that, but it will love me. It's only a shame that this was my coming out into the world. It was the chance for everyone to really, openly see how amazing I am.

The weeks to come would be hard, but an experience to remember when I am old and still beautiful. Although I could never lower myself to volunteering, the games might do me good, publicity for sure. A little action in my life won't kill me and, as a goddess to my people, someone that is loved by the world, I may as well give my audience performance that they will never forget.

Of course, my favourite part will be the chariot rides. I know that I can't go wrong there as I'm so pretty that no one can top me. I will be the star forever more. I shall look forward to it.

**Leon Taylor District 4**

That crazy Kari or Korey, or whatever her name was, was creeping me out. She continually stared at me like a piece of meat that she wanted to eat. She was the ugliest girl that I've ever seen; her eyes bugged out of her head, probably from staring at people so much, and she always ran around this place as if she owned it. I don't care if she was President Snow's long-lost freak show, she was a nutcase and everybody from 4 knew it.

She dramatically sighed and flipped her hair back behind her shoulder uselessly; the flair was overly excessive, even for her. When she began to chuckle and mumble to herself I tuned her out, thinking about whatever strategy I could formulate on the spot. I really hadn't thought much through as far as surviving in the hellhole went. I was a more go with the flow person anyways.

I remember speaking with Rosie the day I left, which was only two days ago but felt like forever, she told me to listen to whatever Finnick had to say. I had a hard time finding the strength to fulfill her request, Finnick and I were never on the best terms, but she was my sister, my twin, and I would do anything for her. If she thought Finnick would keep me alive then I would go to Finnick.

With that in mind, I jumped off the plush couch and walked around the train in search of my new best friend, the one who was supposed to be charged with saving my sorry butt.

**Amelia Kift District 5**

Tributes have come and gone over the years, but only those who were crazy or stupid enough have ever won. I am not crazy, and I don't consider myself stupid, but does that mean that I don't have a chance?

In some ways, I guess that it's good that I'm not coming back. Life back home isn't great. I'm an only child and my mother and father don't really like me around, so they always try to ship me off somewhere else. I don't really have any friends, just those kind enough to feel sorry for me. I don't like people's pity, but it will be the closest to friendship I will get.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really afraid of dying. I wish I could go back home, but I know in my heart that it's not even a possibility for me to win. I am going to die.

If I had one wish, right now, I would wish that someone would grieve for me, miss me, but I know that I'm on my own. Whatever I do from now on, I will have to do by myself. Goodbye cruel world.

**Otto Erastus District 5**

Amelia, the girl tribute from my District, smiled politely whilst we arrived in the Capitol, only her eyes revealing a shadow of fear.

She should be scared, I smirked to myself. Her killer is standing a few feet away, taking in her weaknesses. All of the people that entered this year's games are stupid, shy or arrogant. The only one that will make it out is I. I'm the perfect tribute, so even at the grand age of 13; I will obviously win this year's games. In fact, the bad competition this year will mean that it will be easy, probably even too easy. I might have to spice things up a bit for some audience entertainment.

Some brutal murders could do that, right? I could team up with the careers and torture them one by one in the night. That will be fun, as long as there isn't that much blood. I don't like blood very much.

I am definitely looking forward to getting to the Capitol. I have already planned my entire 3 minutes and a bit over for the interview, but I'm sure they will want an encore. A bit of a sneak peek: I'm going to rip my shirt off halfway through. Yes, I have already planned my outfit. I will have to give Ceasor his outfit plan as well, to match mine, and his questions. Perhaps it's not too late to coordinate his skin and hair color this year to match with the colors I will be wearing.

I'm most looking forward to the end of all of this Games drama. I don't even know why I have to compete in the Games, everyone knows I'm going to win, why not just skip to the bit where I get my own house and millions of riches and lots of hot women adoring over my Adonis-like body? Then I could show my stupid brother, yes, Amos, I'm talking to you.

I might as well just endure the games for the fun of it. It's called "The Games" for a reason.

**Bliss Mckenna District 6**

I miss home; miss it with all of my heart. There is that empty feeling in my stomach, the one that you know will never heal.

Right now, I am as far away from home as you could imagine, not in distance, but in feeling. Back home I was safe. I had decided that I was going to live with my sister. I was going to have four children, 3 pretty girls and my baby boy. Here, in the lap of luxury, I am safe, but here it will not last. It's like fattening a kitten up before you eat it, viciously, murderously.

I curl up at the bottom of my bed, my head hiding behind my knees thinking of the games, possibly the only future I would ever get.

My birthday will be in a week.

Usually we would have a celebration, just mother, father, Harmony, my younger sister and me. We would go out and buy a small feast of baker's bread, butter and any fruit we could get a hold of. 2 years ago, we had apples, last year we had strawberries, and counting out the days on my fingers, I have worked out that this year for my birthday; I will be either in the arena or dead. My birthday will fall on the same day that I will be released into the unknown to be murdered by someone in a short amount of time with great brutality that no human being should be capable of.

Were we even human anymore?

**Hugh York District 6**

I had half a mind to go and find Bliss, but maybe staying here and watching a spider carefully construct its web would be better. From what I can tell, it's a money spider. I reach up to the corner of the room holding out my hand for it to decide if I was friendly or not.

"Ewwww!" Screamed the disgusted escort, backing away from me, screeching horrified remarks as I returned the spider and apologized to her. I and two of my friends had started a small fact file on the eight-legged arthropods specializing in the Theraphosidae, or the common house spider.

As I turned my attention back to the screaming escort, I realized that several bulky guards were slowly descending the train towards me, but walked right past to stand in front of the spider, deliberating what to do with it to calm the frantic escort.

"There is no need to move it, this spider is totally harmless. The small size of the outer fang means… No!" I ran towards the now lifeless body of the innocent spider, quietly asking the man who had squashed the creature what it had done to him.

This, although small experience had taught me how unforgiving and cruel this nation really was, so now, stomping back to the neat bedroom to get some much needed rest, I realized that I needed revenge.

**Azure Hoc District 7**

Hope. That's the only thing keeping me here right now. Hope for what? Nothing can save me now. How can a blind person believe in hope?

They can't, but that's what's holding me, keeping me safe. I sometimes wonder if I'm drifting off to the darkness, to a world where no one cares. I'm certainly getting there, being dragged by a strange man that only I can see, a bloody hand clasped over my mouth.

I lift my head and get up, annoyed by my constant fanatical day dreaming, picking up my long stick and tapping it in front of me. The stick helps me to walk without bashing into something. I'm not allowed to keep for the Games; it could be used as a weapon. I am planning to just go and find another one during the games, if I make it beyond the bloodbath.

Right now, thinking of my loving family back home, I don't know what I wouldn't give to be back there with them, safe, but I know that this is something I have to do, something important. I couldn't let someone else give up their life so that I could live. That is murder, which in District 7 is punishable by death. Why it isn't applicable in this situation, I don't know. To have to live with the death of another because of my cowardice, a life taken because of me, every day would be better in hell, because living with murder is impossible.

My life is a small price to pay for such a sacrifice, so with my life, I will pay. If killing is how the Games are meant to be played, then dismiss the rules I shall, because this is no games for the weak.

**Garmal McFarly District 7**

"You know, Azure, if you sit there all day, you'll only make yourself more worried." I smiled at her even though she couldn't see me. Her head snapped up and a smile graced her face nicely. She always had a pretty smile. Azure's eyes met mine; I liked her eyes because they reminded me of my brother Clevis who is also blind but only in his right eye. Even though she couldn't see me, it felt like she could and her gaze was reassuring that I was still sane and not crazy with fear.

We would be in the arena in a week exactly; my heart sped at the thought. I would have to kill someone or be killed by another person. Nevertheless, wasn't that the thought on everyone's mind? I wondered if there was any way around it. Having watched the tapes over and over again, reliving all of the horror of the past 73 years, I knew that the Gamemakers would force tributes together to battle it out. I wondered, however, if one could ever avoid it. Perhaps I could run from all conflict until the very last possible minute, the fight between the last two tributes.

I'd have to think more about my strategy and discuss it further with the mentors because the shiny, brightly lit Capitol appeared suddenly from behind a large set of mountains, stealing my breath away.

**Chella Wright District 8**

Syne was so lazy, he didn't even look up when we got into the Capitol. He just sat there and stared at that stupid, old handkerchief. The Capitol was beautiful, bright and wonderful just like they always showed us on TV. President Snow was right, we were all truly very lucky to live in a place as amazing as Panem.

"What are you doing, Syne?" I sniffed. I doubted his ability to formulate an actual response because he usually never said anything, but I received a curt grumble from him in return.

"We're almost to the Capitol," I started, "you should come see it. It's very pretty." Turning to him, I saw that he was leaving and instantly became rather irritated. "Well fine," grumbling unhappily, I shifted in my seat to better see the city in the dimming light of November. "It's not like I wanted to be your friend anyways, jerk. I'm just going to end up killing you in the end, might as well get used to it."

**Syne Torqua District 8**

I sighed silently to myself. So this is what it's come to. I stared at the girl who was sitting across the table from me scratching jumbled, half-thought out ideas into the lacquered wood table. I briefly allowed myself a moment of horror at possibly having to watch over her during these games. I felt responsible for her because I'd known her from grade school and onwards. In addition, I was fairly sure that she lacked any common sense available to the average human; she was so daft it was hard to believe she hadn't died thus far. But if I tried to save Chella from the inevitable could I also save myself? Should I pair with her and try to save her?

I also felt responsible, irrationally, for the blind girl from 7 who had no one to volunteer for her. She was beautiful, admittedly. I prayed that someone would find it in the decency of their human heart to save her or at least present her with a quick death.

I sighed again, sparing a cautionary glance out the window at the world speeding by. I quietly tried to review the tributes in my head, the dangerous pair from 1, careers, no less. The girls from 2 and 3, and probably the boy from 4 and the boy from 12 all seemed equally dangerous. There were quite a few who would not make it passed the bloodbath, Chella most definitely if I couldn't make up my mind and save her and if fate was not on our side. That dark girl from 10 looked frail, and of course Azure. I couldn't get her out of my head and I groaned loud enough for Chella's head to snap up in confusion.

"What are you doing, Syne?" She whined.

"Nothing," I grumbled back. I wasn't in the mood to give her an explanation at the moment. She started humming happily to herself and I just shook my head. Ignorance is bliss. Leaving the cart, I heard her try to talk to me again but I couldn't sit there and make small talk when I had to think about everything that would be happening. She may not be happy with my manners, but it was her life on the line.

I guess this is what it's come to.

**Nyla Triss District 9**

The Capitol is bright and cruel and cameras are everywhere. I feel like one of the bugs that I like to study under my microscopes. It's uncomfortably hot here, nothing like the cool climate that I'm used to. I have a million complaints but none can compare to the heavy weight that is pressing down on me, threatening to squish me. Panic overtook my breathing patterns and I slowly threatened to begin hyperventilating should I not be removed from all of the publicity and crowds.

I wondered, briefly in a moment of self-removal, why the Capitol was so fascinated, so enamored with people who would knowingly soon be dead.

We were walking corpses and this is all I could think of as I blacked out in the center of our paparazzi ambush.

**Mark Vires District 9**

I sat alone, dreading everything that was to come and anticipating the arrival of all of the other tributes. We'd arrived not more than 45 minutes ago, greeted by a large, unfriendly entourage, paraded in front of a massive crowd of screaming people and then shuffled off to get ready for dinner. I was fairly sure that we were the first tributes to arrive in the Capitol, it was about four o'clock in the afternoon and judging by the crowd, they had been there all day.

I felt wiped from having been on a train all-day and sick from the lack of our District's regular meal of wild rice and chicken. At least Nyla wasn't a talker; otherwise, I would be in a much worse mood.

A camera brightly flashes in my face and I retract my earlier statement. I'm in an awful mood.

**Pea Adams District 10**

I have always liked naturally beautiful things, so standing here is the heart of the Capitol; I could tell straight away that it was not a beautiful place. It looked shiny on the surface, every detail of the city outlined in some bright colour, but nothing was natural. It was an artificial City.

I turned away from the front window to sit back down on one of the chairs beside the table, curling up into a ball, hiding away from the world.

There is one thing I have learnt about living in Panem. It's the world verses you, so a bloody battle it will be, but I'm starting to wonder how this started, why this is still going on. I am starting to question the reason, because no one ever wins.

Arrett stares at the Capitol with his bright green eyes, taking in the city. I wonder if he's thinking the same as me, the imminence of it all.

"Look, Arrett, I want to tell you something," I began to say, cautiously.

"No, Pea." He growled at me, obviously unhappy with my interruption of his reverie. I try to say something again but he just stares at me and shakes his head. "Don't say anything. Because you will say something and it's going to sound like a goodbye. You don't get to say a goodbye before it's even started, don't be stupid." With that, he stood and left.

Maybe it wasn't what I'd wanted to say but it now seemed adequate.

Then that bitchy escort began screaming her lungs off and I sprang into action.

**Arrett Hayes District 10**

I could feel Pea's eyes burning a hole on my face. I considered staring back into those large, brown eyes but decided that ignoring them was best for both of us.

She tried to speak and I thought I'd known what she was going to say, but I couldn't hear it. Not now when we were going into the games, not now when I was suddenly getting attached. I'd stopped her and covered it by quickly saying the most cliché thing that I could come up with. She seemed to accept it well enough and I left so as to avoid more conversation. We were nearly to the Capitol anyways, probably around fifteen minutes away by my estimations. I decided to get ready.

"Stop, stop! It's an emergency!" called a whiny voice from the back of the train. It was more like a scream and I believed it for a fleeting second until I'd associated the voice.

"We need to stop, NOW!"

The train quickly slowed to a halt, jerking us all to the windows at the front. A frantic escort ran out of the train, perfectly made-up and clutching a small purple handbag. It had obviously been perfectly timed as she ran straight into a colourful shop with sparkly gems stuck all over the door. It was marked "Hailie's Hairdo's."

The mentor, a lanky man called James sighed and picked up a speaker, telling the person on the other side, the train driver as far as I can tell, that it was a false alarm.

**Selena Yodis District 11**

I hummed in anxious patience for our arrival at the station. We had been over the schedule time and again; about what it was we were to do regarding our public statements and actions. We'd been drilled by our escort and mentors to be all smiles and pleasantries until we were safely tucked away in our rooms and readying ourselves for the day.

I spared a glance out the windows and was shocked to find a glowing rainbow city lighting up the violet sky. It made my heart sink. We were only that much closer.

**Kenzie Sykes District 11**

Panic. Sheer, unadulterated panic. That's all I felt when I saw that ugly monstrosity called the Capitol. There was nothing else to say, I was alone in this and scared out of my mind.

**Ren Zaira District 12**

The window had fog from me breathing on it so much, my hot breath mixing with the cold air outside. Early morning and I couldn't sleep; I sat with a mug of plain black coffee like I always had back in 12. Haymitch sat nursing a headache, drinking the same coffee and occasionally moaning or complaining about something. Effie sat near me cooing over pictures in a glossy magazine. I'd never actually seen a magazine before; all we got was newsprint in 12 and the occasional advertisement for a product from the Capitol that no one could afford.

She caught me ogling it with fascination and held it up for me to see. I was unsure as to whether or not it would be rude to rush over to her and peer over her shoulder to watch, but she saved me the opportunity to decline by passing it to me with fleeting comments about the latest hairstyle.

Haymitch unhappily mumbled about not allowing me to read garbage but we ignored him with a light amount of humor. It seemed very out of place in comparison to the place that we were going but I enjoyed the nice change of mood.

I smiled graciously at her, thanking her for her generosity and spared a cautious glance downward, startled by the moving pictures of oddly colored women in the think booklet. They were strutting down a long aisle of glass or pursing their lips. Modeling the aforementioned products in the periodical. I saw glitzy ads and pictures of celebrities as babies or without make up, everything looked like it belonged in a fictional land that I'd associated as Oz in my younger years of fiction books.

Perhaps, if it were even possible, the Capitol would not be so bad. I hoped that everyone there was as nice as Effie.

**Jon Neal District 12**

I'd opted to not get out of bed this morning and instead just lay in my cart and process where I was going, what my strategy would be, how this would all play out. I'd tried to be positive about it all, but the grim nature of the very subject was hard to over come. One simply could not even think about the Games with a smile on their face. Well, unless they were insane or belonging to the Capitol.

I frowned, feeling the premature wrinkles in my face and digressing all the same. We were on a high-speed course to doom. I closed my eyes in a momentary mixture of emotional exhaustion, frustration, and anguish. Why us? Hadn't we received enough reminders after nearly 75 years?

Apparently not, because when I opened my eyes again I was still sitting on the train and still racing towards the Capitol.

**This is the last train rides chapter, promise :)**

**I'm sorry that it STILL took this long to write this chapter. I could say that I will get the next one on tomorrow, but everyone who has ever read any of my stories will know that that is not going to happen.**

**I WILL NOT GIVE UP ON THIS STORY**

**So, this chapters who reviewed last chapter list:**

**Axxi**

**Citruszen**

**Freedom of Thought**

**Shiningpurplestar**

**Friend**

**Friendly**

**Thank you to my beta The-Idea-Guru, all of the people who have reviewed and everyone that is reading this!**

**Also, I think that we are going to have to find another way to make me write quicker. Hint: I love muffins.**

**Also also also, sorry to those tributes with not much writing, this chapter was meant to just be a short snapshot of everyone's first view of the Capitol, but some of them are just longer then others.**


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